Lovedrunk
by DogmaMeetKarma
Summary: After a night of drunken antics, Derek & Stiles start to confront their feelings. Rating Changed. Slash. Stiles/Derek. Complete/Hibernating.
1. Lovedrunk

**AN: It's my first fanfic. On this account. I haven't been so much of a fanboy since I first played video games, but then I grew up... and lost my old acc. It's atm a one-shot, but I might do the whole shebang if I can bring myself to do it. I lack ambition. Anywho, it's sortof AU, like most of the stories here. I tried to stay IC, but there are a few digressions. You gotta love yerself some Stiles/Derek delishisniss. **

**Lovedrunk**

Derek was driving back to his house with newly bought groceries. He felt the rumble of his Camaro, the blast of cool wind into his face, and the still, quietness of the forest night all around him. He was driving down the empty streets of Beacon Hills, trying to get home without having to deal with suspicious cops or obnoxious hunters.

As he rounded the corner of the road, a familiar scent wafted into his nose. The scent of a hormonal teenage boy with tendencies to get himself into loads of trouble, the scent of one of those tendencies was also present in the air.

Scanning around, he saw the short haired teen cantering down the side of the road, with a bottle of what was definitely alcohol swinging in his hand.

"Shit," said Derek. What the hell was the kid doing? Was he trying to die? He only been reminded so many times that the Alpha wanted him dead, so getting drunk and walking through the woods at night must've been his overly imaginitve way of commiting suicide. Nothing else could even remotely make sense otherwise.

Derek pulled over in front of Stiles and got out of the car. He examined at the teen with angry eyes. Stiles was wasted as fuck. He hadn't been entirely able to smell the extent of the problem before, but now it was like Stiles had taken a swim through a vat of Jack.

Derek grabbed the bottle of whiskey out of the teen's hand and shook it at him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Stiles looked at him funny as if he couldn't tell who it was yelling at him. Finally recognition dawned there and smiled.

"Why hello, _Hale_."

"Are you seriously this stupid? You get yourself wasted and," Derek sniffed, "Is that drugs? Your high and drunk off your ass!What, do you want to die? Walking around the woods while there's a werewolf that'd be only too happy to rip you in half?" Derek was furious. He thought Stiles was the smarter of the two teens. He thought there was at least some common sense in the kid.

Stiles' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh, is that what you're gonna do? You could at leez buy a boy a drink before you proposision them. Unless they happen to be a prostitue. Which I am not, by the way. I, mister, am a probber gentlemen. I require a drink before allowing you to have your way with me."

Derek's eyes narrowed in angry disbelief, clueless as to what the hell this was about.

Stiles lunged for the bottle with both hands out, but he's weak so they fall heavily and it looks as if he's stretching for his toes. Derek had immediately withdrawn the bottle away, and Stiles ended up falling comically on his ass on the road. He made an 'aw shucks' gesture with his hands and shoulders. Then he started to draw in the dirt with his fingers.

"God-fucking-damn it." Derek rolled his eyes. He really didn't want to have to spend his evening babysitting a drunk. Sure he didn't have any plans, but that didn't mean he was free to babysit.

"Hey misser, that kine of langage is nah necessary."

"Come on, you're going home. Let's get in the car."

Derek hoisted Stiles over his shoulders, carrying him like a sack of potatoes to his car. Stiles whee'd like a kid as Derek hauled him. Derek laid Stiles down in the backseat. Thinking ahead, he grabbed a brown paper bag of groceries, the one that held the boxes of mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and other not fragile items and dumped them out on the floor. He handed the emptied bag to Stiles.

"Do _not_ puke on my seats."

Stiles wriggled around, his body loving the feeling of the seats.

"Oooh, sawft. Leather?_ Of course_ it's leather. As if you'd have anything else."

"Did you hear me, Stiles? I said _no puking_ on my seats."

"Huh? Oh, you don't have to worry about _that_. I don't really have a gag reflex."

_Oh my god_, the thoughts that reeled throughout Derek's mind sent a pulse of blood into his nethers, _I hope he's not serious_. He closed his eyes against the raunchy images and closed the door.

Derek started his car and made a u-turn. He headed for the drunk teen's home and got his phone out. Dialing Scott's number, he listened to the tones as he sped back towards the town.

"Hello?" Scott is out of breath, as if he's been running or something.

"Scott, it's Derek. Can you tell me why it is I have a plastered Stiles in my backseat?"

"Stiles is drunk?"

"No. Stiles is plastered. Drunk must've been passed over about an hour ago." Derek gripped the wheel with one angry hand as he turned another meander in the road.

"Frick, he said he was just gonna hang out at this party for a little while and just unwind."

"Well, he's officially past unwound, he's completely come apart. And he's... acting weird." Derek didn't really wanna have to explain the extent of the awkward over the phone.

A groan came from the back seat. "Hmmm, your car feels _sooo good_."

"Did you hear that Scott? My car feels good. Or as he so descriptively put it '_sooo good_.'"

"Yeah, Derek, I heard. My hearing is as good as your's. Look, I can't deal with this at the moment. I'm with someone." Derek's nostrils flared out of anger.

"Scott, I told you to stay away from Allison!"

"I know, but I had to tell her I would be busy for awhile! I'll be over as soon as I can. Just... get him home. And make sure his dad doesn't see him like that. Or you! The sheriff would go berserk if he found you and his son incapacitated."

"I pretty much figured that one out myself, thanks."

"Okay, keep him safe, and I'll be there as soon as I can." The call died and Derek tossed his phone to the side. He grips the steering wheel with both hands now.

Derek sighs. "What the hell am I supposed to do with you, Stiles?" The words are spoken aloud for his own benefit.

Stiles giggled from the back. "I got a couple of ideas..."

Derek groaned. It was going to be a long night.

...

Derek pulled out front of the Stilinski household. Fortunately, with the recent attacks from the Alpha, Sheriff Stilinski had taken to patrol the town till late at night.

Stiles was happily rubbing up against Derek's car seats when Derek opened the door. Derek leans into the car to get Stiles' attention.

"Stiles we're at your house. I need your keys."

"No... dad says I'm not allowed to have strays. Especially bad dogs like you." Stiles batted a hand weakly at Derek's face. He was not rewarded with a smile or chuckle. He got glared at.

"Fine," Stiles turned onto his side, "They're right here." He slapped his own left ass cheek. The sound of a metal clink confirmed the fact.

God help me, Derek prayed silently. He tried to do it as carefully as possible, but as Derek pulled the keys out of the pocket, Stiles used his own hand to force Derek's hand into his crotch. Stiles groaned and giggled at the frictious situation.

Derek felt his own crotch's lustful yearnings for a moment, but quickly withdrew his hand. He fisted his hair in angry impatience.

"Ugh! Stiles, you need to stop. Your drunk. You don't really want this."

"Yes, I do! Pikachu... I choose you! Or would you be a Mightyena? Yeah, Mightyena... you definitely got Scary Face down..."

"Stiles stop! Your drunk and high off your ass!"

Stiles sits up from the seat, feet hanging out of the car.

"I, sir, am not," Stiles paused to still the whirling of the world around him, "Under influence or duress of anything. I only had..." Another pause, "About half bottle each of vodka and whiskey. And what I think was E. I dunno, ithadapairoflipsonit, so I guess it was E... There may have been weed involved too..."

"Why would you take so much?"

"I dunno. Ferfunnzies?" Derek heard a skip in Stiles' heartbeat. But since Stiles' was high off of god knows what, he couldn't be sure of what to make of it.

"Well, you need to come down from your little cloud. Let's get you inside."

Derek came over to the car again. This time he grabbed the keys that had fallen from his hands quickly and withdrew trying to not draw attention from the sexually frustrated teen. He really didn't want a repeat of the earlier forced molestation.

Derek told Stiles to wait there and jogged to the front door. He unlocked and opened the door, leaving it open so he could get Stiles inside.

He went back to Stiles.

"We have to get you upstairs. I'm gonna help you up, but you have to promise to not pull anything."

Stiles nodded quickly, his eyes closed. Stiles was like a child, and it was too fucking adorable. Derek was becoming increasingly infatuated with this younger reversion of Stiles.

He got beside Stiles and wrapped the teen's arm around his neck. Holding Stiles' neck, he helped the teen up the driveway. Once to the halfway point though, Stiles collapsed to his knees and threw up. Derek couldn't help but be a just the slightest, smallest bit grateful that he'd kept it together till he was out of the car.

Stiles groaned, though this time out of dismay at getting a little puke on his jeans. Because that was attractive.

Derek, a little bemused by the turn of events, decided to get this over with. He picked up Stiles very gently and set him over his shoulders again. He carried the dazed teen up to his room and set him on his bed as gently as possible.

Derek started to undo Stiles' shoes, and removed them and his socks. He went up to Stiles and started to tug off his shirt. After that, he undid the button and zipper on Stiles' jeans. Struggling to lift his hips as Derek tugged his jeans off, Stiles smiled.

"I get farther with you after puking. That sends odd vibes."

For the first time that night, Derek smiled down at him as he rolled the denim into a ball.

"Did you really want to wake up with the smell of your own puke on you in the morning?" Derek stared down, trying to be as oblivious to the fact that the only thing that covered Stiles' near-naked body was a pair of ridiculously small black boxer-briefs.

"I guess not..."

Derek helps Stiles under the covers, thankful to have covered the teen more. He now knew he'd be spending at least a fraction of his night in the shower.

Derek made to leave before Stiles called out.

"Wait."

Derek looked at the adorable shirtless teen. Derek's breath had at some indiscernible point become ragged, each exhale consistently inconsistent. His own heartbeat was picking up pace.

"Derek will you answer a," Stiles yawned - adorably -, " Answer a question for me?"

"Yeah?" Derek started to walk back to Stiles.

"I asked Scott, and Danny, this gay guy at school, but neither of them answered me."

"Asked what?" Derek sat next to Stiles on the bed.

"I asked if they," yawn again, "thought if I was attractive to guys."

"And?"

"Do you think I'm attractive?"

"After that little puking incident?" Derek asks.

"Oh." Stiles' voice is dejected and resigned. He turn on his side, facing away from Derek and lays down onto his pillow.

A moment later, Derek looks at Stiles' pale back.

"Yes, Stiles, I think you're attractive. I wish you knew how attractive I really think you are... I think I'm almost falling in love with you."

Derek looks at Stiles' sleeping body.

He knew that Stiles had passed out before he had responded, but it didn't change the fact he wanted so badly for Stiles to hear his words.

...

Derek stayed beside Stiles for a long while, rubbing the sleeping teen's back and enjoying the proximity of the frail being beside him. At the sound of a car pulling up, Derek sat up. Then he felt the anxiety in the air, and it was clear that it was Scott. When Scott had gotten up to the room, he saw a casual Derek perusing one of Stiles' many newly acquired werewolf books and a still sleeping Stiles.

"How is he?"

"Passed out. It's three o'clock. I called you at twelve."

"I'm sorry, Allison didn't want me to leave yet. She-"

"Screwed you. Thrice. I can still smell it all over you."

"Dude, that's gross. You don't have to point out everything you smell."

"Yes, I do. Especially when you said you'd be over as soon as you could. Once, was pushing it as it was, but three times is definitely something that requires pointing out."

"Okay! I get it. Stay away from Allison. No need to repeat it more than... Wait, is Stiles' naked?"

Derek's face went from annoyed to perplexed.

"What? Oh yeah. He puked on himself, the puddle's outside. When we got in, he just stripped down and went to bed." Derek forces his heartbeat in check as best as he could. Knowing when someone else lies made it easier to try to insure you're never caught.

Scott looks at him funny. He must've heard something offbeat. Shit. Derek looks back at him and the two look at each in this stalemate. Scott shakes his head, and just shrugs it off.

"I'm gonna go. You should clean up your friend's puke off the driveway. His dad would definitely not approve of his underage son drinking."

"Sure. I'll see you later."

Derek leapt out the window, trying to ignore his heart aching to be beside Stiles all night long.

**FIN**

**AAN: I'll be honest, I'm sorta rusty on fanfic writing, so I'm worried. Review me! It'd help me decide if I could do a full 'verse. On our side notes, I'm gonna rant a little about our fellow fanbase members SKIP this if you're a whiteknighter. Derek/Kate is unholy: SHE BURNED HIS ENTIRE FAMILY TO DEATH. HE COULD NEVER LIKE HER. And then there are OC's. I don't mind if you fantasize about being in Teen Wolf, but you're not that cool, not even in fiction. As for the rest of slash fiction Derek/Jackson, Derek/Scott, Scott/Stiles? Eh, idkidc. Go for it. BUT KNOW THIS. DEREK/STILES IS THE RULING COUPLE OF THIS FANVERSE.**

**Also, if you love Dylan O'brien as much as I do, check out his band! Slow Kids at Play. He plays the skins. And they're pretty good! Just sayin. Who's ready for tomorrow's episode of Teen Wolf? THIS GUY!**


	2. Head, Heart, & Hot Aches

**AN: Thank you all for the reviews! They really did help me to decide to get this second chapter going. I'm winging it here, so bear with me. **

**Here's some shout-outs:**

**lanoirpapillon – I'm so sorry! I totally JUST looked over how the story looked. I could've sworn I had done all my editting, but I guess it didn't save! I really hate the inbrowser editting system for the most part, something that hasn't changed much since I first started using . But I'm glad you were able to get through it. I'll go back and re-edit Chapter 1 after writing this one. **

**Dragonryder94 – I know... I did warn you there was a rant on the way and I am rather caustic in general. BUT IN MY DEFENSE, LoL, I only said it because I got annoyed. I've already read virtually all the other Derek/Stiles fanfics and still am not satisfied with this new-found addiction to Sterek. That's actually also the main reason I made a new acc and wrote this fic. **

**And to everyone else, Dolce, Edjen, Sasha, DarkPulse, agent00, and even the people reading this after the fact (You still counted.) thanks for the reviews! They help me in my time of boredom. **

**Now onto the writing!**

**Head, Heart, and Hot Aches**

Stiles eyes struggled open. Everything was so bright. And there was a dull, unrelenting pain. Every beat of his heart thudded in his skull like a dull rubber mallet. As he struggled to right himself in his bed, a queasiness in his stomach arose. He threw his covers off and ran down the hall into his bathroom.

Stiles threw the cover up and heaved as his stomach contents were regurgitated. The burning feel of bile and alcohol going back up the chute it went down made Stiles' eyes tear up. He wiped the remnants out from the corner of his mouth and regarded the vile pinkish substance with disgust.

After flushing the puke, only too happy to do so, Stiles scrubbed his hand clean. He splashed some water onto his face, trying to get himself fully awake. Opening the medicine cabinet, he found a bottle a bottle of Pepto, some floss, and a bottle of Tylenol. Tylenol wasn't going to cut it, his hangover was too big for Skittle painkillers. He reached on the higher shelf and found the bottle of Vicodin his dad was prescribed post-oral surgery a while back. His dad was a firm anti-drugs person, so he kept the bottle out of sight and out of mind. Stiles was totally pro-drugs. Just in moderation.

Taking two, Stiles popped them in his mouth, along with a sip of water from the tap.

Then with dull senses, he noticed a general lack of clothing about his body.

He turned and checked himself, making sure there were no bruises or marks on his body. Then he checked his nails, just in case there was skin under them, from fighting back. Nope, nothing but dirt. Then he felt his throat... Nothing particularly painful, just the lingering burning sensation from vomiting. And his behind... well, he felt fine down there. Nothing felt like he'd been touched.

Nothing that he should have been worried about. Except a small flashback of someone rubbing up against his crotch.

Maybe he _was_ touched last night.

...

Stiles dialed Scott.

"Hello?"

"Hey Scott, it's me. Would you mind coming over? I can't remember anything that happened last night and I need you to help me fill the blanks. I'm seriously starting to worry."

"Yeah sure, I'll be right over." A girl's voiced awww'd in the background. Stiles' sound was muffled by what he assumed was Scott covering the microphoned end, not all that airtight though, as Stiles could hear most of it fine. "_I know, but it's Stiles. He doesn't remember anything that happened last night. I'll be back soon, I promise."_

_ "Fine, but you owe me."_

Scott's hand was removed from the phone.

"I'll be there in a few."

Stiles opened the front door to his best friend and led the way into his living room. At this point he had clothes on.

"So I woke up this morning, almost entirely naked. I have very little recollection of what might've happened last night, and I have an odd image stuck in my head. I need _you_ to explain to me what it is exactly that happened. I woke up this morning with nothing but my underwear on. I really need to know what conspired last night." Stiles is panicky, the past thirty minutes have left him with a thousand scenarios that involved him in positions that he really needed to know if he was ever in.

"Calm down. Here's what I know. You were wasted and out in the woods. Derek found you and brought you back home. You got undressed and fell asleep. I got here at like three and you were dead asleep."

"Oh. Wait, Derek was here?"

"Yeah, he found you. He was actually pretty pissed. I think you ruined his night."

"Oh. And all he did was take me home?"  
>"Pretty much. You weren't exactly cooperative though, apparently. You sounded weird over the phone. Said his car felt good. Oh and you puked out in your driveway. Don't worry, I already hosed it down last night."<p>

"Thanks. So nothing out of the ordinary happened last night..." Stiles sighed with relief.

"Stiles... what exactly were you doing last night?" Scott is looking at him funny.

Stiles has two thoughts flashing in his head – 1.) Scott will know if your lying. 2.) Scott can't find out about why I was in the woods.

"Well... I went to that party, like I said I would. I drank a bunch, and did some weed... Did you know Danny is a big pothead? I think I ended up taking an ecstasy tablet... Don't really understand why, but it I figured, _'hell, why not?'_ After that? I think I had the urge to take a walk. After that, things go all fuzzy."

Stiles mentally high-fives himself. He didn't mention where the urge pushed him towards, nor did he mention why he wanted to go out in the first place.

"And that's all you remember?" Scott was fishing. How to avoid?

"Pretty much. There isn't much that I can get out of the rest."

Scott nods his head to himself. He seems pretty satisfied with the answer.

Scott stands up.

"Did you and Derek have sex?"

Stiles' mouth drops open as disbelief rips through like a lighting bolt.

...

Derek's abs screamed with pain as he did another sit-up. Number 927. He's been at it all night and morning. Trying to quell his sexual frustration by channeling it into energy for his work out. It sickens him that he's done his full work out almost four times now, and he still has the vision of him showering Stiles' body with kisses and hickies emblazoned in his mind.

He did his workout on the dusty floor of his dilapidated home, letting the scene play out in his mind over and over and over and over again.

He saw himself shirtless, his hands roaming all over Stiles' almost naked body, nothing but those skimpy boxer-briefs between him and what he wanted so much to be his. He saw himself thrusting and grinding against Stiles. He wanted so bad be in Stiles. To be in his life, in love with him, in a relationship, just be inside of the irresistible tease. He wanted to make Stiles scream, moan, and whimper. He wanted to torture Stiles as Stiles had tortured him all this morning.

As he finished his thousandth sit-up. Derek was at the point where he mentally said _'fuck it.' _Derek ran up his stairs peeling off clothes as he headed for his shower for a third time that day. Fucking Stiles was torturing him without even being aware of it.

...

Stiles' mouth mouthed at the air, like a fish in a tank.

"NO!" The word forced itself out after several attempts to make a sound.

He knew Scott won't hear his heart skip a beat, because it's the honest truth.

"Okay. But you were drunk. So you wouldn't be able to lie about something you don't know... Do you think you had sex?"

"No!" But this time even Stiles felt the skip.

Scott narrows his eyes in accusation.

"Okay. I sorta have this memory of someone's hand against my crotch. It may have been Derek, may have not been Derek. But I know I didn't have sex with him. I think I'd be able to feel the aftereffects of that."

"Unless you weren't the one being-" Scott's smile was getting wider.

"Scott! I did not have sex with him. That's so wrong. He's _Derek_. You don't seriously think he'd-"

"Yeah, yeah. But then who touched you?" Scott is saying as he walks out of Stile's bedroom.

...

Images of Stiles on his knees in front of him, urged Derek on. The scene shifted to one of Stiles face against the shower wall... Then one of them on the shower floor, missionary... One of them doing it doggystyle... One final one... Derek's favorite... Of him sitting with Stiles in his lap facing him... It's mostly kissing, but it's Derek's favorite fantasy.

Derek felt so close. His own hand was doing the ministrations. He felt himself on the brink, the edge... And there, _God_. He let the water wash away the remaining evidence down the drain and then turned off the shower. He stepped out and redressed. As he pulled his shirt over his head, he heard the sound of a car pulling up. A Jeep.

...

Stiles got out of his Jeep and walked up to Derek's porch.

He made a motion to knock, but when as knuckles touched the wood, the door just swung open slowly. He walked inside looking around to see if Derek was in sight. The dark house still looked freshly charred. The house was a sad place to be.

"Hello? Derek?" Stiles called out to the seemingly empty estate.

"Right here." The voice came from behind.

Stiles whirled around to find a brooding werewolf leaning against the wall behind him.

"Oh, um, hey?"

"Did you need something?"

"I'm sorry, was I bothering you?" Stiles saw that Derek has wet hair, and his shirt is slightly damp, the moisture soaked into the cotton.

In his head, Derek had wanted to respond, _'Yeah. You make me hot and bothered.'_

"No, I just finished showering." Derek was monotone, seeming as if he didn't really want to be having the conversation. Even if it was quite the contrary.

"Oh. Cool. I just wanted to say – Wait, your shower works?"

"Is that what you wanted to say?" Derek's eyebrow was cocked. He knew it wasn't what was meant, but he likes making Stiles flustered, I kind of payback for the past ten hours.

"N-no, sorry."

"Yes, my shower works. I had the plumbing restored. And had the electric and gas lines replaced as well. To make it habitable... to a point."

"And left the house like _this_? Wait, sorry, it's none of my business." Stiles immediately regretted mentioning the house.

Derek ignores the jibe. "I don't have the money to fully restore it. Plus it keeps unwanted visitors away. Sadly, not as well as it used to in recent weeks."

"Sorry. I'll just get this off my chest. Thank you. For last night."

"You're welcome."

"... Okay... I guess I'll get going then."

The two walked outside.

Stiles got in his seat and started up his car.

Derek started to walk back to his house.

"Wait." Stiles says it. The word pierced through the rumble of his Jeep. He knew Derek heard him, seeing the older man pause.

Derek's heart faltered when he heard the word. The last time Stiles said it, some very troublesome feelings were provoked.

"I'm sorry that I ruined your night, I didn't really mean to. I'll make it up to you."

Stiles pulled a u-turn and drove back to Beacon Hills.

Derek shook his head. Stiles had no idea just how far over he was screwing Derek.

If this was going to go on any longer, Derek was going to have to consider drastic measures... Like ripping his heart out.

...

Stiles turned on his radio as some new song started to play over the radio.

_Can you find the ti-i-ime... to let your lover love you..._

Stiles shook his head. He really needed to just let these feelings he had for Derek go. It wasn't right. You can't crush on someone who's threatened to use you as their chew toy. Seriously threaten you... with being their legitimate chew toy. It was dangerous. And stupid!

… _and he's the one that you were born to love..._

He needed to stop. No more fantasies about walking over to Derek's house and admitting his feelings for the man and ending up having blistering hot sex all over the floor of the house. No more fantasies about having Derek be your first kiss... your first fuck... your first and last love.

And especially no more fantasies while you're drinking. That was the last time he was ever going to even look at a bottle of alcohol. Shots were dangerous too. They convinced you that impossible things were possible, and he could not waste his life away wishing on something that could never happen. It would only hurt himself more. And he really couldn't afford to hurt himself anymore.

_Baby it's fate... like a soulmate, he's your penguin... baby, it's fate... baby, it's fate... Not luck..._

**FIN**

**AAN: Not as fun as writing with drunk Stiles which I know was all your guys' favorite. But, well, people are only drunk for so long. We'll see about trying to reincorporate some of that again at some point... I dunno. Anywho, the rating may go up at some point, I feel as if I'm pushing it as it is... But we all know you'll follow me into the dirty place, right? I'll make it worth your while *wink*. The song used at the end is **

**Penguin by Christina Perri**

**which is sortof way too adorable for me... I'm usually disgusted by that kind of stuff. I didn't mean for it to go all songfic on y'all, but I felt this one was a little lacking in words. Gotta pump up the word count just a little, LoL. Also... know this, I definitely won't be going in the whole soulmate, my mate, my imprint, blazehblazehblah sortof plot. I blame Meyer for putting that 'wolves are monogamous' stuff in people's heads, in reality only alphas are monogamous, as there is one alpha male with his alpha female. I feel a lot of people are doing that too heavily, with a LOT of fluff, so we'll leave it at pure chemistry in my story. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy living on a cloud as much as the next guy, but it makes it too simple if we do that. After this has gone up, I'm gonna go back and edit Chapter 1. Not heavily, just some formatting and grammatical errors. So there's no need to reread it. There was some mix up or another with which file I had editted and which one actually got uploaded. ANYWHO (you'll find I use that a lot) review me. It makes me happy!**

**EDIT! OMG! It's 5PM here on the PST, two hours till another episode... Here's hoping for some more deliciousness from Derek and Stiles?**


	3. Heat In Your Arms

**AN: Only got 13 reviews last chaper, what? LoL, it's probably just because I talked too much at the end. It's okay, I'll keep it short this time! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much I enjoyed writing it!**

**Heat In Your Arms**

Stiles grabbed stray articles of clothing and tossed them into his laundry basket. He carried his basket downstairs to the laundry room for his weekly Sunday laundering. Since tomorrow was a school day, he figured he should do his jeans first.

Sorting through his pants, he found a ball of denim rolled up.

Stiles doesn't ball up his jeans. It leaves traces of wrinkling. And he hates wrinkles. As he shook out the jeans, he noticed the damp spot and remnants of puke on them.

Realization punched him in the head as memories of his drunken night surged throughout his head. His mouth opened in disbelief.

He remembered almost everything... How he had been talking with Danny about a crush. How Danny said the best thing to do about his infatuation with a guy was to confront them; if Stiles was rejected, then the healing could start. And there was a flash of how he started to drink a little so that he could bring himself to talk to Derek. And then how he threw himself all over Derek.

_Oh my god_, Stiles mind realized, mortified, _I told Derek Hale that I don't have a gag reflex_.

Memories of grabbing Derek's face, of slapping his own ass, of using Derek's hand to rub himself! And a flash of Derek tugging the same pair of jeans off surged forward in Stiles' mind. They all dawned on Stiles, each one more embarassing then the last.

And that question! That hideous, haunting question.

And then Stiles remembered Derek's answer. How he blatantly said no. Derek must be so weirded out by him now.

Stiles needed to apologize. He really didn't want to have Derek creeped out by him. He didn't want to make it awkward. He definitely didn't want Derek to avoid him for the rest of his life.

Stiles dumped all his laundry in the washing machine and ran it. Then he ran upstairs to get his car keys. He really needed to apologize.

...

Stiles drove down the road, trying to figure out how exactly he would try to get across just how sorry he was.

"I'm totally sorry about the other night. I was drunk, and that made me vulnerable. So, against my better judgement, I totally hit on you. Please don't kill me."

Too annoying.

"Look, about the other night? I totally didn't mean ANY of it."

Considering it was a lie, that went out the door as well.

"Derek, about the other night... I think what happened is best left forgotten. I'm sorry it came out. Ignore the fact that I ever said it. It was stupid, and I shouldn't have done any of it. I just want to never ever ever mention it again. Ever."

That worked. Yeah, that could totally work.

Having his apology ready, Stiles rounded a bend in the road.

He screamed as he swerved at the sight of a monstrous, red-eyed alpha werewolf leaping towards his car.

...

Derek dropped from his pull-up position on the door frame. It was faint, but he could've sworn he heard a crash in the distance. Being so far off the beaten path, it was almost impossible that that someone _wasn't_ coming towards his house.

Grabbing his shirt and jacket, Derek burst out of the door and ran to his car, praying that he the sound he heard wasn't really the Jeep that he thought it was.

...

Stiles panicked. The alpha, only barely dazed by the collision with the Jeep, had immediately gotten up to assault Stiles' car.

After smashing into the beast, the Jeep rolled several times until it smashed into a tree on it's side, roof propped up against the tree trunk. The alpha had leapt onto the passenger door and struck it repeatedly with his sharp claws.

Backing into the ground, his door, Stiles tried to keep out of reach of those claws. He freaked out, trying to find a way out. The driver's door couldn't very well open into the ground, and the passenger's door was obviously not a viable option at the moment.

In a burst of miraculous insight, Stiles remembered the flare gun. Sheriff Daddy-o said keep it in the closet place possible, you never knew when the place you put it could be just out of reach.

Searching the mesh pocket of the Jeep's door, Stiles tried to yank the small, single-shot firearm. The stupid hammer caught in the net. After struggling frantically for a few moments, the gun finally came free.

Aiming the gun at the beast's head, Stiles screamed,

"Eat it, _bitch_!"

Before he'd even fully pulled the trigger, the tiny piece spat out a pathetic spritz of crimson red. When the flare collided with the alpha's head, it caught in fur, burning the monster, igniting some of the fur on fire.

The werewolf leapt off the vehicle and began to tear at its head, trying to put out the offending object.

Stiles saw that the windshield was cracked and, using his extensive amount of movie knowledge, kicked the cracked windshield out after a couple of attempts. Thank God his car was old and the windshield seal was weak. He rolled out of the car, praying the alpha was still occupied with the flare.

As he ran into the woods, he knew with that with the pain in his legs, it was unlikely he would escape with his current situation.

Thinking of ways to improved his chances, he tore off his button-up shirt and wiped it all across his face. He hoped the blood from the cuts on his face would suffice for his scent as he balled up the shirt.

As he threw the shirt as far as he could off to his right, he heard the howl of the alpha, and he just knew that the monster was free of the flare now. He needed to find a way to get away, but it he couldn't think of anything.

And then it hit him. The lake!

He knew there was a small lake that a lot of kids used to go down and skinny dip in in the summer. He could use that to cover up his scent and get away from the alpha.

Thinking that another diversion would be helpful, Stiles pulled off his t-shirt and threw it, hard, straight ahead, making it seem like that it was him that went straight. He turned so as to make it look as if he was the thrown clothing this time.

It felt like hours passed, and he was sure that the running had worsened the condition of his leg, but he finally found himself running towards a large body of water.

Acting on instinct, Stiles dove into the frigid lake.

...

Derek pulled up to the scene of the crash.

His heart raced, blood and adrenaline burning through his veins. He threw open his door and studied the scene. He could see a flare and the crash, but there was a severe lack of blood for anyone to have been killed.

Sniffing, he caught the scent of fear and anger trailing away. Stiles' fear. And an angry alpha following. Derek tore into the woods after their scents.

He came across a divergence in the scent trail. Something that confused him for a moment.

The alpha's scent was stronger in the left direction. Stiles was smart; he gained time by confusing the werewolf. The alpha had checked the right trail and found it dead. He had to backtrack and go down the other trail.

Derek wasted no time and followed the left scent fork, praying that Stiles had already escaped the trouble.

After blasting through the woods, Derek came to another fork, this time the alpha had only been through one. The other werewolf had taken the time to figure out the one that had the stronger scent this time, refusing to be deterred.

As Derek tore after the pair, he finally figured out where Stiles had led them. He knew what Stiles was thinking and wanted so badly to kiss the boy for his brilliance.

_Stiles, I'm begging you, I swear to God that if you're alive I won't let anything else happen to you. Just please be alive... I need you to be alive._

Derek arrived at the lake to find a frenzied werewolf sniffing at the bank.

Derek snarled, wolf-formed and only too eager to kill.

The alpha growled, but held its ground.

Derek could smell the scorched fur and his heart leapt again over the aftermath of Stiles' brilliant actions.

The alpha roared at him in anger, and fled into the dark woods.

Derek scanned the lake, praying that Stiles was safe.

There! The pale back of a teen bobbed in the water, hard even for Derek to see.

Throwing off his leather jacket, Derek leapt into the water, barely noticing how cold the lake was. He wrapped his arms around Stiles and paddled the two of them back to shore. He dragged Stiles onto the shorebank, only to find that Stiles wasn't breathing.

"Shit." Derek acted with haste. He put one palm over the other and began to pump Stiles' heart. He only barely remembered CPR from high school, but he let his instincts take control.

After ten pumps, he pinched Stiles' nose and gave the teen mouth-to-mouth. After a couple of repetitions, Stiles finally came to, spewing water out of his mouth on his side. Derek's breath heaved, as he sighed out of relief.

"D-D-Derek?" Stiles said, noticing the drenched old man.

"Yeah. Are you okay? I think you passed out swimming away."

"M-more l-like f-flailing. I d-don't kn-kn-know how to swim." Stiles laughs a little.

Derek didn't chuckle. He knew the symptoms of hypothermia. Stiles was shivering, and he still had soaked clothes on.

Derek got up, and without a word, threw the shivering teen over his shoulder.

"W-w-what are you d-doing?"

Derek quickly grabbed his jacket. He needed to get Stiles warm. Now.

"Don't get it wet."

"Oh, th-th-thanks," It's a failed attempt at sarcasm, "N-now want to t-tell me what you're d-doing?"

Derek powerwalked through the forest, and like that they're back at his car.

He propped Stiles up against his car, who shivered uncontrollably, and popped the trunk open. He grabbed a spare blanket he keeps when he needs to sleep in his car. Derek opened the backseat and laid the blanket down.

"On your back." Stiles looked at him funny, but laid back without a word anyway, shivering visibly. He let Derek peel off his shoes and socks. His feet felt clammy and cold in the brisk air.

Derek reached in and started to undo Stiles' belt.

"Wh-whoa, I c-can d-do that my-my-myself." Derek stepped back, and gestures with his head.

"Try."

Stiles moved his hands down to his buckle. He tried hard, but his hands are shaking too hard. He can't tell if it's because he's freezing... or if it's because he's nervous.

"That's what I thought." Derek undid the buckle without hesistation and without any difficulty, pulled the soaked, skintight jeans off.

"Well, that f-felt f-familiar." Stiles tried to joke.

Derek moved again for Stiles' boxers.

"W-w-wait, ev-everyth-thing?"

"Yes, everything. They're wet, they need to go."

"F-fine. I can act-actually get this one."

Stiles wrapped himself in the blanket, covering himself. He gets his boxers down to his calves before Derek grabs the wet garment under the blanket and pulls it off. Stiles shivered at the odd feeling.

Derek moved to the driver's seat and started the car without getting in. He turned on the air conditioning, making it blast moderately warm air.

Shutting the door, he moved back to the trunk, bringing Stiles' wet garments and shoes with him. He tossed them in, and started to strip himself. He tossed in his clothes as well.

He moved to the open door of the backseat.

Stiles sat up and saw Derek naked.

"Wh-what are you d-doing?"

Derek got in the car and closed the door. He opened the blanket that Stiles had wrapped around him and wrapped himself up with Stiles inside with him. Stiles was too speechless, shocked, and cold to argue. Derek forced them into a spooning position. Stiles was pressed up against Derek, his front to Stiles' back.

"Your displaying symptoms of hypothermia. I have to warm you up." Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, rubbing the cold teen. "No more talking. People lose ten percent of their heat through their lungs. And since you're you, it'll be more like seventy."

"A-ass."

"Not another word."

They go on for a while longer, in silence.

"Derek?"

Derek makes a sound out of annoyance. "What?"

Stiles is quiet for a moment. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now try to sleep, that should help with the pain."

"I can barely feel my toes. There's no pain to be felt."

"There will be. Now sleep."

There was more comfortable silence. And Derek started to enjoy it. He just hoped there wouldn't be any noticable signs of enjoyment.

"Oh yeah, Derek?"

Derek closed his eyes in skepticism. "Yes, Stiles?"

"About the other n-night, can we forget it ever h-happened? I didn't mean to put you in an aw-awkward position. Forget I ever said anything."

Derek was silent.

"Derek?"

"We'll talk about it another time. Just go to sleep right now."

Stiles was puzzled. But he was starting to feel extremely tired. He let himself drift off as Derek held him close, enjoying the warmth of Derek's naked body against his.

When he was sure that Stiles was asleep, Derek looked down at the teen. He kissed the teen's neck before he let himself start to drift off for a nap.

**FIN**

**AAN: Okay, promised it would be short commentary this time, but seriously, gotta say, I did better this chapter. Threw in a spooning scene, ahaha. Sidebar - How effing annoyed were you last night at first? I was like, 'Seriously Derek?' but at the end I forgave him. And then felt bad for being mad during that last scene. Trying to decide where they're going to after this...**

**You got two choices.**

**M or H. **

**I won't tell you what they mean, that would ruin it. But this is a big decision. So leave your answer in the review you will most definitely be leaving me this time.**

**Seriously. Review. I need to know how I'm doing here.**


	4. Soulsick

**AN: Woww, review blast there! Thank you all for your input, it makes this a whole lots easier. I'll just go ahead and explain that H and M stood for _H__ô__pital_ and _Maison_, which is Hospital and House in French, respectively. I couldn't very well make you choose out of H or H, could I? I hadn't even really noticed that they seemed like Hale and McCall at first, lol. There won't be any Scott/Stiles action. I like Allison/Scott just a bit too much for that. They're both so pathetic, it's adorable together.**

**The choice was, literally, where they were going next. I'll be honest, the hospital opened up more for other scenes, whereas the house would've been really fluffy, possibly shortening this entire experience. Which would've been a boo for you, while less of a workload for me. **

**So last night, I caught up with The Search for the Cure webisodes and saw Episode 2. It made my fanboy heart THROB, even if I read into it in a way it wasn't intended. ****Skip to 1:50 for the good part. It's also more or less the inspiration of this chapter!**

**Soulsick**

Stiles woke up to the sound of beeping monitors, the steady bleeps in tune with his heart. He didn't remember getting to the hospital. He wondered how long he'd been there, and where was Derek? The last thing he could recall was being wrapped in a blanket, stark naked against Derek.

Stiles' eyes adjusted to the dimmed lighting of the room. He noticed a hand holding his.

Looking over, he found himself almost wanting to see Derek there.

Only the slightest bit disappointed, Stiles squeezed his sleeping dad's hand.

Sheriff Stilinski stirred, feeling the contraction.

"Oh, thank god, you're awake." Stiles' dad looked so relieved. Stiles felt awful for worrying him. And worried over how long he'd been out.

"How long have I been here?"

"It's Tuesday-," Sheriff Stilinski checked his watch, "No. It's Wednesday morning. Derek Hale admitted you around midnight Sunday."

"Have I really been asleep for two days?"

"Well, you came to, just for a moment, they say. You weren't really conscious, just a stir."

"Is everything okay with me? Am I fine?" Stiles asked. He had no idea what happens after hypothermia.

"Well, fine isn't the word I'd go with. You were stable when Hale brought you in he said he had you dried and warmed up first, to make sure hypothermia wouldn't set in any deeper. But you did have incomplete fractures in your right leg, or something like that. They casted you up and told me you'd have to stay a week here." The sheriff goes silent for a moment. He stared into his lap. "Stiles, you scared me. You're all I have left. When I heard what happened, I was so worried."

"I'm... sorry, dad." Stiles rarely saw this side of his dad. The vulnerable side. He didn't really know how to handle him like this.

"If I lost you-"

"You won't lose me." Stiles said forcefully. He couldn't let his dad think like that. Hearing his dad actually believe that he could lose Stiles killed the the teen inside a little. He had to make sure that his dad could never go to such a dark place. He had to make sure to never let his dad have to worry about him again.

"So...,," Stiles said, considering, "Now that I'm awake... I'm starving. Wanna grab a bite to eat?" Stiles starts to get out of the hospital bed.

"Oh no, you don't. You're not allowed to so much as leave this gurney, let alone the building. And no junk food. I'll see if we can get you some good, wholesome hospital chow."

As the sheriff left the room, Stiles surveyed it. It was like most depicted hospital rooms. Bland... boring... disinfected to the point that you could have radiation poisoning...

A small table held the only discernible colors in the room. Cards and balloons were littered all over the tiny structure. Stiles didn't really remember having that many friends, but then some people were probably just being generally nice.

Getting up, he noticed a breeze 'downstairs.' He remembered being naked, but couldn't anyone put on any underwear on him? He didn't exactly enjoy the increasing frequent exposures of his lower regions.

He walked over to the table and perused the cards.

There were the ones that made sense – Scott, Scott's mom, and Harley – and a couple that he felt were a little weird, but it was whatever – Allison and Danny – but he didn't see one from Derek. Not that he should've been surprised, it's not like Derek was the most touchy-feely kind of guy, but a boy could hope, couldn't he.

He turned at the sound of the door as his dad walked in with some of the most revolting looking food in his life.

"What did I say about leaving the gurney? Get back in that bed."

Stiles got back in the bed, throwing the covers back over himself.

Sheriff Stilinski rolled over the hospital tray and adjusted it to Stiles' bed. He pulled a chair over and placed the offensive tray of food in front of Stiles.

Stiles stared at the plate.

"... Is it dead?"

"Yes, it's dead, Stiles. Now hush up and eat."

"I think it just moved." Stiles eyed the breaded, gravy-smothered meat.

"You can either eat it or I can feed it to you like you're two. I can tell you, the last time I did that, you wouldn't look at me for a week."

"Probably because the food was as bad."

His dad looked at him straight in the eye. "Eat."

Stiles picked up the spork and eyed the food. There were some of the darkest green beans he'd ever seen, a banana with more liver spots than old Grandpa Genim's hands, and a piece of meat that he thought lacked a little bit more deadness to be convinced it was truly, utterly dead.

"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen you not devour something that came in front of you," comes a voice from the doorway.

"Scott! Hey, dude! How've you been?" Stiles was glad to see something that didn't look like it would poison him.

"How have I been? You've been asleep for _two_ days! I'm the one who needs to know how you're feeling!"

"Hey, Scott, it's three o'clock in the morning. Shouldn't you be at _home_, in _bed_. It's a school night, and there's still a _curfew _in effect." Sheriff Stilinski was lecturing Scott now, of all times?

"My mom called and told me that Stiles woke up. Plus, I would've just been at home worrying anyways. Stiles is my best friend, I had to know he was fine."

Sheriff Stilinski just frowned, but didn't continue.

At some point, Stiles had subconsciously started to eat the slop on his plate. Eventually noticing what he had done, he shrugged.

"This actually isn't that bad. Can't judge a country-fried steak by it's color."

"Actually," Scott chimed, "I'm pretty sure you're supposed to."

"I know that, dumbass, I was just trying to make a joke. You're such a dork."

Sheriff Stilinski cleared his throat. "I'm gonna go see if you can come home tonight. You're awake and you have a cast for the fracture, so maybe they can just write you a prescription and we can get out of here." He closed the door as he stepped out.

"So what happened?" Scott was in the evacuated seat before the door even clicked shut.

Stiles looked at the door and gestured with his head.

"Don't worry, he already walked away. So, tell me! What happened?"

"Um, I was driving towards Derek's... I got confronted by the alpha... I escaped. That's pretty much it."

"And Derek just happens by to save you?"

"What? Pretty much yeah."

"What does pretty much mean?"

Stiles groaned.

"You really picked a great weekend to learn how to interrogate people," Stiles sighed, "As far as I remember, he pulled me out of the lake I jumped into and he warmed me back up. I fell asleep and he must've drove me here to the hospital. Haven't been awake since."

"No, you were... for a moment. I was dropping off the cards yesterday and you had woken up a little."

"Oh god, what did I say?" Stiles panicked for a second, praying he hadn't spilled anything too embarrassing. He had a rather bad track record with just letting things come out recently.

"I could barely make it out, even with wolf hearing. It sounded like 'war moms.'"

"War moms? Because that makes total sense."  
>"I don't know! I barely understand you when you're awake, how am I supposed to know what you say in your comas?" Scott looked at him grinning<p>

Stiles just shook his head and grinned at Scott. Stiles wondered.

"Hey... Scott. Has Derek..." Stiles trailed off.

"Been here? No. I haven't hear from him since Sunday when he called to tell me you were attacked. Have you guys talked yet?"

"Between being in a crash, attacked, and nearly frozen to death..." Stiles paused for effect, "I haven't really found the right time, y'know?"

…

Unbeknownst to the pair, Derek sat on the roof of a building across from hospital, legs dangling off the side, listening. He sat there silently for the past three days, only moving to go into the hospital at night and sit beside Stiles and hold his hand for as long as he could, leaving before Sheriff Stilinski would come in to sit beside his son and fall asleep there.

Derek took a swig from a bottle of whiskey that had become his best friend over the past weekend. This was his fourth bottle in the last three days, and while he could never be fully drunk, the stinging accusations he heard in his head were lessened by a bit.

_ It was your fault. He was driving to your house. You put him in danger._

Derek took another drink. The drink went down as if it was water, alcohol not really burning his lycan throat.

_You can never have him. Just being in his life ends up with him in a hospital. If love him half as much as you claim to, you'll stay away._

Another drink, although this time it's more like a gulp.

_You're a danger to Stiles. Your love would kill him. You're a monster. _

Derek grabbed the bottle and plugged it into his mouth. He doesn't hesitate to guzzle the last third of the whiskey left. He tossed the empty vessel behind him and wiped a stray drop from his mouth. Studying it, he noticed it's not pale gold like whiskey, but clear.

Derek just sat there, letting the rest of the tears that followed fall down his cheek.

_You're love will push Stiles into his grave._

…

Thursday, Stiles was allowed to go back to school. Sure, his leg was stuck in a cast, and he had to use crutches to get anywhere, but at least he could focus on something other than seeing how perfectly Derek fit the role as a white knight to his twisted little princess story.

Scott had helped Stiles to his locker, but left as soon as possible to go find Allison. _Thanks Scott, for your undying loyalty in my time of need. No wonder I've never had a crush on you, you tool._

Stiles struggled with the books in his hand for a moment, when one fell from his pile.

A hand caught it before it crashed into the floor.

"Here, I'll help you. We have Chem together next, so why not."

Danny smiled at Stiles. Stiles was absolutely ecstatic to have someone with compassion around.

"Thanks, Danny. I got your card, by the way. Thanks for the well-wishes, dude."

"Well, I sorta felt worried. I mean I thought I was like the last person you talked to Friday... at the party y'know?"

"Yeah. I remember." Only too well. That night had been the entire bane of his existence for the past 144 hours. If it wasn't for the party, he wouldn't have talked to Danny. If he hadn't talked to Danny, he wouldn't have been drunk. If he hadn't been drunk, Derek wouldn't have needed to rescue him. If there was no rescue, he wouldn't have had to say sorry. If he didn't need to say sorry, he wouldn't have been attacked. So, if you were an utter douche, you could say at some point Danny was responsible.

But only if you were a douche.

"Hey about... what he talked about Friday night, how did that go?" Danny looked at him, eyes hinting at romantic notions.

"I... never really got a chance to talk to him." Stiles is glad he's lied to someone without them knowing he has; it's been tedious avoiding situations with complex sentence structures.

"Are you going to?" Danny looked genuinely interested in the conversation.

"I don't know." Stiles was hit with a sudden possibility. "Danny, you're not..."

"Into you? No! You're a cute guy, Stiles, but... you're just not really my type."

"Who is? … _Jackson_?" Stiles looked at Danny hinting in his own way.

"Dude, I haven't liked Jackson that way since junior high." Danny scoffs.

"So, who _do _you like?"

"No one, really."

"Come on, everyone likes someone."

"I really don't like anyone. Not, intimately at least." Danny laughed. "Well, here we are. Let me get the door."

They walked into Chemistry, a sort of new friendship between them.

…

At lunch, Stiles was able to finally get Scott alone to ask him what had been haunting him all day.

"Scott." Stiles has barely touched his food. Something he does only when something important is on his mind.

"Yeah." Scott looked up, slightly worried. Stiles is rarely a one-word kind of guy.

"Has Derek been avoiding me?"

Scott was taken aback. He didn't think this thing between Derek and Stiles was actually that serious.

"Not that I know of. I haven't really been to see him any time recently. Too busy with you."

_Really, with 'me'? I think you mean Allison._

"Oh. I think I'm gonna go see him."

"Okay, I'll drive you after school."

"Really?" Stiles was confused. That was odd. Scott usually ditches to stay with Allison. "Allison actually busy tonight?"

"Huh? I don't know, I just figured I should actually start following through. I've said that I'm gonna be super busy and won't have time to be with her like eight times in the past week. I just have a hard time staying away."

"Really? I hadn't noticed, you know with having to carry all my own crap and what not, especially with my _fractured leg_. Seriously, there's no point in having a broken limb, if your friends don't become your indentured slaves. All other reasons are just stupid."

The two of them laughed and finished their lunch together.

**FIN**

**AAN: Okay, so that went by after a long bout of writing. Sorta gotta a block in there at some point. I got super sad during Derek's part, and got really hard to find the harshness that usually comes so easily to me. Frick, I'm sort of tearing up right now, Lol. And in case you don't know who Harley is, she's the black girl who occasionally talks to Derek and Stiles. Most specific scene was "How come new girl is here all of five minutes..." in the Pilot.**

**Danny probably won't be that central to the plot, he was just there, for friendship's sake.**

**Thank you in advance for your review! Because you _will _be leaving one again, right? ;) **


	5. Starved Hearts

**AN: Thanks for the reviews! I used them to justify Derek's feelings in the last chapter. I felt so bad putting him in that position, my eyes started to water a little. And there they go again just thinking about it.**

** Starved Hearts**

Scott drove Stiles over to Derek's house using his mom's car. Stiles had, however, insisted on stopping by his house and the grocery store before departing for the werewolf's home.

_{{{Flash Back{{{_

"Why exactly are we here?" Scott looked at Stiles with a questioning look.

Stiles simply kept perusing the boxes of pasta, leaning on his crutches for support.

"Do you think it should be fancy, or simple?" Stiles asked back.

"Should _what_ be fancy or simple?" Scott asked frustrated.

"Just answer the question." Stiles is contemplating between using galletti and macaroni noodles. Galletti pasta was like a ruffly kind of macaroni noodle. Macaroni was just a classic, and arguably the only acceptable noodle that should have cheese on it.

"Simple, okay! Now will you tell me what you're-" Scott is waving his arms around.

"Nope, wrong. If you're _you_, trying to impress Allison, then you go simple. Makes you seem modest. Seriously, Scott, I'm surprised you even have a girlfriend. Don't you know how to woo a lady?"

"Is that what you're doing? Wooing Derek?" Scott looked at him.

"What? No, I'm making him the best dinner I possibly can. To thank him for saving my life and to say sorry."

"Stiles, this thing with Derek, you're not feeling anything serious for him, are you?" Scott was worried. Stiles has been his best friend since before all other befores. He didn't want him to end up dead, hurt, or worse, heartbroken.

"I... don't know. I need to figure out what's in my head first." Stiles knows he has feelings, but this dinner is supposed to help clarify how far he was going to let those feelings develop. If Derek rejected him, he could just move on. If Derek happened to feel the same way... then they would figure things out. Sure it was a real gamble, but life was only as sweet as you made it.  
>"Stiles, I don't want to see you hurt."<br>"I know that, Scott."

"Seriously, Stiles. Derek is dangerous, if he hurts you-"  
>"And you're not? Derek has at worst threatened to rip my throat out, you've already had a go for my throat with your teeth," Stiles looked at Scott. Scott was looking down, hurt, "I don't blame you for that, you couldn't control yourself. But I want to know how deeply I feel for Derek. It's my choice if I want to like Derek. Plus we don't even know how he'd react to me liking him, so you don't really have to worry yet."<p>

"But still-"

"Scott, stop. If you go on, I'll be forced to use the fact that I know what dangers I'm getting into and how Allison doesn't."

Scott looked at him angrily.

"I don't judge you for wanting to love and be loved. Please, Scott, give me the same right."

Scott breathed hard, angry, but he didn't continue.

"Come on, I still have to figure out what cheese to use."

_}}}Flash Forward}}}_

Scott pulled up to the Hale House. He wasn't particularly happy with having to do so now, but he said he'd drive Stiles, so he drove Stiles.

"Wait, how are you going to cook?" Scott said, looking at the groceries and then looking at the house.

"His utilities work actually. Can you tell if he's here?"

Scott rolled down his window. After using his hearing and smelling senses, he shook his head. "I think he just left. Do you want to do this another time?"

"Nah, it's easier if he's not here at the moment."

"But, the alpha-"

"I'll be fine, Scott." Stiles looks at him pointedly.

"Do you want help with bringing stuff inside?"

"Nope. You go ahead and get out of here, I'll be fine."

…

Derek ran, trying to get his blood pumping. He had felt Stiles coming to his house long before Scott drove up. When he had spent hours next to Stiles naked, it boosted his sensitivity to Stiles' presence. When he was so close to Stiles, he got a more complex feel for Stiles' feelings and how his feelings worked. He was hyper-tuned into feeling Stiles' mood. He felt Stiles' sadness over the past couple of days and he knew he was the cause, but he couldn't bring himself to see Stiles. He promised himself to avoid Stiles as much as possible, no matter what. He couldn't bring himself to endanger Stiles at any cost.

He hoped that Stiles would just give up and go home soon... He really didn't know how much longer he could smother his feelings.

…

Stiles looked at Derek's kitchen. He sincerely hoped that Derek had honestly made everything working and wasn't messing with him when he said that he had everything restored.

Walking over to the stove, he pressed and turned a knob.

*Click-*Click-*Fwoosh. And then there was a ring of flame emitted from the burners.

Stiles sighed in relief. He turned off the burner for the moment, and, taking the pot that he brought himself, began to boil water for the galletti.

Stiles didn't really enjoy the silence and he forgot his MP3, so he looked around. Surely Derek had some sort of music in the house. Limping around the room, he saw a black iDock. He picked up the iPod that was already connected to it and sifted through the music inside.

"Boring, boring... God, there's too much dark stuff on here... Ah, now _this_ looks promising." Stiles pressed a button, put the song on repeat, and docked the iPod.

Poppy music started to blare from the dock and Stiles returned to his station in the kitchen.

…

Derek ran harder and harder. Pushing himself each step. He promised. He couldn't hurt Stiles. Derek was an animal. He couldn't let his selfish feelings pull more people into danger than he could. If he let himself be with Stiles it would endanger them both.

Stiles would make him weak, being everything for Derek. Derek would lose focus on the important things, always worrying for Sties. He would be willing to drop everything for the teen now, and they were barely on speaking terms.

And Stiles was so fragile. What if Derek lost control? What if he hurt Stiles? What if Stiles got hurt again because of him? He couldn't live with himself if he was the cause of Stiles' pain. He would never forgive himself if he harmed someone who he loved.

Stiles was taking this entire werewolf business too much heart. Most people, smart people, ran like hell when they find out someone is a werewolf. They don't stick around and chat, and definitely don't try to become part of the werewolf's daily routine. Stiles should've tried to get his dad to leave town the night he learned werewolves existed.

But Stiles was too loyal, he was too much of a friend to Scott to just leave his friend to fate. It was a dangerous, and stupid, trait to have, and yet, Derek found himself entranced by Stiles' commitment to friendship. It made him love the boy, even if he knew he could never be part of it.

Derek came up to his house, knowing full well that Stiles hadn't left yet. He could hear music playing and felt Stiles' content presence. He smelled food and couldn't help his stomach from growling, having taken to not eating recently. _Well, _Derek thought, _I should just get this over with._

Derek inhaled, walking into his own home, hoping he was prepared enough for this.

…

Stiles was dancing around as he finished adding all the ingredients together.

_Take me by the tongue and I'll know you... Kiss me till you're drunk and I'll show you.. all them moves like Jagger! I got them moves like Jagger! I got them mo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oooves like Jagger!_

As he finished stirring all the macaroni to the beat of his hips and lip-synching, Stiles couldn't hear the close of the door. He had just finished putting the whole of the macaroni and cheese into a large serving bowl when the music shut off.

Stiles whirled around and saw a quiet Derek standing by the iDock.

"Oh... um, hey." Stiles was at a loss for words. He hadn't realized Derek had come in.

Derek just looked at him, trying to figure how to begin. "What's that?" Derek gestured with his head to the pot.

"Oh, this? Just some food. I made you some mac n' cheese."

"I have food. Plenty of it is mac n' cheese." Derek says.

"I know, but this is homemade. I said I was gonna make it up to you, and I meant it."

Derek nodded silently. He doesn't have anything else to say. He wants to say something, but can't find anything worth saying.

"Well, um," Stiles looks around. He grabs the empty bowl he had out and fills it quickly. "Here you are," He hands the bowl with a fork to Derek, "I'll just be going now."

Stiles headed for the door.

"Wait."

Stiles stopped

"You should stay. I'd... enjoy the company." Immediately, Derek knows he should regret it, but he's too selfish. He can't just keep his mouth shut and let Stiles go. Instinct is impossible to ignore, even if conscience knows it's wrong.

Stiles looks at Derek, eyes steady. "Sure. I'll stay."

He smiles a small smile, and Derek's heart breaks a little inside.

…

The dinner goes by in silence. They eat like three bowls each in contemplative quiet.

"What's in this?" Derek breaks the silence. He figures that simple conversation will stop Stiles' obvious worrying.

"Oh um... Some onions, mushrooms, and bacon, aside from the noodles. And I used Smoked Gouda and a New York White Cheddar... Instead of just plain yellow cheddar."

"It's delicious... I don't normally like onions." Derek looks at Stiles as he finishes his last bite.

"Well, I caramelized the onions, so... They're more sweet, instead of like, tart." Stiles says it as if it's a matter of fact, hand wave and all. He took a sip of water from the glass before him, trying to calm his nerves.

"Thank you." Derek got up and grabbed the dishes. He takes them into the kitchen.

He started to wash the bowls and forks, too preoccupied with the running water and soapy sponge to notice that Stiles had shuffled behind him.

"Derek."

Derek turns to his side and sees Stiles looking at him. Derek's breath starts to be laborious, each exhale more rugged than the last.

"Look, I just need to get this out and off my chest. All I need from you is to listen," Stiles breathes hard, "I've sorta been having _feelings_ for you. And I just need to feel like you should know. I don't expect anything less than you punching my lights out, but I need..." Stiles struggled, "I need the truth to just be out there. I'd feel wrong if I kept it bottled in. Honesty is the best pol-"

Stiles is silenced, Derek forcing his lips onto Stiles'. A moment of hesitation occurs, but then Stiles is kissing back, with passion barren abandon. He's inexperienced, but he goes with what he knows he'd like to kiss like, being passive and tempting at the same time. Derek was holding him by the back of the head and pulling him closer by the small of his back, his own kisses hungry for Stiles, wanting so bad for more.

The kiss is ravenous, and fierce, something they both find they can't deny themselves. Or so it seemed.

Derek stopped. He tried to keep himself contained, just long enough to regain his thoughts. He wants this so bad. He's done nothing _but _want it for the past week. He can't let himself do this to Stiles. Or himself.

He pushed Stiles back for a second and looked into those confused, deep brown eyes.  
>"I can't... I can't do this to you. You'd just be in danger, all the time, and I can't let anything happen to you."<p>

"But-"

"No, Stiles. This can never happen."

Derek is walking away, wanting to bad to run back, but he forces himself to stay on the path that keeps Stiles safe.

"Derek, wait!" Stiles was supporting himself with the counter, out of breath from the kiss.

This time, wait isn't enough for Derek to stop.

**FIN**

**AAN: It's shorter, I know. **

**I believe that we might be coming to the end of this story within the next chapter. Maybe two. Don't worry, I have some other ideas for a couple of Sterek stories, and some one-shot ideas as well. I'll be focusing on Teen Wolf for a WHILE to come probably. I have one that... well, keep tabs on my account and look for any new stories from me. My next idea... it's a vast warp to the story of Teen Wolf, but I find it personally appealing. I would, it's my idea.**

**Song used was Maroon 5 – Moves Like Jagger (Feat. Christina Aguilera)**

**!To the person who PM'ed me (IDK if you'd want me to say your username). Thank you so much! I didn't think I was gonna update today, but because of you're comments I just _had_to update. So everyone should be glad that you did PM, lol.!**

**Next chapter will contain M stuff for sure, so I'll be changing the rating to M when it goes up. BUT for those of you not into that kind of stuff, it'll be entirely at the end, so you'll be able to stop at a certain point without having to skip ahead for more. Don't know why you'd miss out on hot gay guy sex – I enjoy reading about it immensely –, but it's entirely your choice.**

**Review. Just do it.**


	6. Against the Storm

**AN: Yes, I know I didn't update yesterday, but it was intentional. Updating this late today was totally unintentional though. I meant to do it at like 5 PST, but I went out and had to wait until 8 to finish the M Scene. Thank you all for your support, I hope you enjoy the ending. Or is it? Maybe I'll continue here... Or start a sequel. But I'm definitely taking a break. We'll discuss that later, for now, read this elongated chapter!**

** Against the Storm**

Stiles was heartbroken for three weeks. After hurting for almost a month, he said '_Fuck it._' and decided to take action.

After the night Derek pretty much dropped him to the floor and ran, Stiles called Scott and asked him to take him home.

_{{{Flash Back{{{_

Stiles pulled out his cellphone and dialed his best friend. Scott picked up within the first ring, thankfully.

"Hey... Scott. Can you come and get me?" Stiles said. _And then could you maybe rip my heart out? Because if it's gonna hurt this bad, I really don't want it anymore._

"Yeah, Stiles, I'll be right there." Scott heard the hurt in his voice. That made it easier since Scott didn't stop to ask any questions.

…

Scott drove up and Stiles got in the car.

Scott looked at Stiles, questioningly.

"What happened?"

"I just want to go home, Scott." Stiles kept emotion out of his voice. If he let himself feel just yet, he'd just break down into tears in front of Scott.

"But, what about you and Derek?" Scott asked, worry had crept into his voice.

"There is _no _me and Derek!" Stiles yelled. He fell apart as emotions flooded him. He just wanted to go home, curl up, and die.

"I'm gonna kill him," Scott stated, getting out of the car.

"No, Scott! He isn't even there. And I'm not that vindictive. Just take me home, okay?" Stiles pleaded. He wanted to get out of here, now.

"Fine. But if you want me to kill him, then just say so, because, for you, I'm sure I can." Stiles smiled sadly at how his best friend was so protective of him.

…

Stiles got out of the car when Scott pulled up to his house.

Scott got out of the car at the same time, and before Stiles could run up to his room to cry out his weight in watery tears, ran over and hugged Stiles close.

Stiles' eyes watered.

"I'll be fine." The words were meant for Scott, but Stiles knew trying to convince himself more.

"Call me. When you're ready. You'll be fine."

"I know."

_}}}Flash Forward}}}_

Stiles spent Friday and Saturday locked up in his room, bawling his eyes out.

By Sunday, he was ready to go back out. Not ready to continue living, but he felt like he should probably try not to miss any more school.

That first week back, Stiles brooded, depressed. Scott stayed by his friend and comforted Stiles.

The second week, Stiles was over it. He didn't care anymore. Danny had been right, sure it had hurt, but now he could go on with his life. But apparently the results of his infatuation had resonated with Scott more than he had liked.

_{{{Flash Back{{{_

"So, how's learning to control Mr. Hyde?"

"Not so great, actually. I can't seem to just reign in my emotions."

"You'd think Derek would at least be able to teach you that. The way his face is always so stony, you'd think he has Botox injected every hour on the hour." Stiles mulled the thought over as a chicken tender mulled over his in his mouth.

"What?" Scott looked at him like he was crazy.

"Come on, Scott, you know how Botox-"  
>"No, not that. Do you honestly think I've been training with Derek?"<p>

"Yeah... I remember you being covered in leaves and shit the other day. I figured it was from getting your ass kicked."

"No, I was in the woods with Allison. I haven't talked to Derek in weeks."

"What? Scott you need to be learning from someone. You _need_ Derek!" Stiles couldn't believe Scott. If he didn't learn how to control his wolf-side, he put everyone in danger. This wasn't a 'manageable with time' condition, and even if it was, they really didn't have time.

"No! I'm not working with Derek! Not after he hurt you!" Scott looked at Stiles like he was crazy. How could Stiles actually be suggesting he still have anything to do with Derek?

"Scott," Stiles looked at his best friend, "Derek didn't really hurt me. Well," Stiles nodded his head, "Yes, he did grab me in very threatening manners, and I think I'm going to have to deal with a lifetime of fearing walls, but, even so, I hurt myself Scott. I made a move on Derek, and he didn't really want to make a move back."

"But-"  
>"No buts. Derek is the only person who can help you with this. You need him. So you're gonna go back and just learn to deal with the fact that he broke my heart into a hundred tiny little pieces. If you want, when you grow up to be big and strong, you can kick his ass. But for now, just learn to control this. Unless you want to be the one explaining to my dad how I ended up being attacked by a wild animal in the locker room of a school full of students in the middle of day."<p>

"Stiles..."

"Don't you 'Stiles...' me. You eat up. I want my wolfie to be in top notch." Stiles grabbed Scott's cheeks and shook the anguished teen's face. _Yep, _Stiles thought to himself, _I really will be okay._

_}}}Flash Forward}}}_

The third week, glad to finally be able to move without his cast on, Stiles was in the high school library looking, once more, for information on werewolves. Sure, he couldn't really be much help with the tangible aspects of werewolfdom, but he could at least try to find out ways to kill the alpha.

In the library, he had come to a revelation. Well, he _and_ Danny came to a revelation.

_{{{Flash Back{{{_

Stiles perused the bookshelf. _Werewolves, Witches, and Wandering Spirits_... _A Lycanthropy Reader: Werewolves in Western Culture_... _Werewolves_. Cleverly named.

"You really are an oddball." Stiles looked to his side. Danny was there looking at cookbooks. Stiles grinned.

"Hey Dan-O."

Danny stared at him. Apparently they weren't close enough for pet names yet.

"So... whatcha doin'?"

"Um...," Danny looked a little conflicted for a moment then he shrugged, "Just looking up something to cook for this guy. It's like our fourth date, and we wanted to spend the night in."  
>"Sounds <em>too <em>cute," Stiles said with too much gay in his voice, "I have this really great macaroni and cheese recipe, if you want."

"If it's the one you cooked for _your _guy, I think I might pass," Danny joked.

Stiles bit his lip.

"I'm sorry. Was that too soon?" Danny looked concerned.  
>Stiles shook his head. "Nah, I'm pretty much over it."<p>

"Come on, you can tell me all about what happened," Danny said, dragging Stiles to a table.

They pulled up seats opposite each other.

"So, what I've just figured is that you told him you liked him and he rejected you, but you should probably tell me everything that happened exactly."

"That's pretty much it. I talked, we kissed, he ran." Saying it out loud like that sort of hurt, how simple it had all gone down, but he'd survive.

"You kissed him?" Danny asked, piecing together the scenario in his head.

"Yeah. Wait, no. He kissed me." Stiles' brow is furrowed. He barely remembered that fact. Actually he tried to forget what happened for the most part. No one _wants_ to remember being rejected.

"He kissed you. And then he ran." Danny has some sort of idea in his head.

"Yeah." Stiles wondered what Danny was getting at.

"Without really letting you down, like nothing along the lines of, '_I'm with someone_' or '_I don't swing that way_?'"

"Well, he said... somethings. He said that it couldn't happen."

"Is he in danger or something?" Danny questioned, skeptical.

"Well, kinda, I guess. He's less dangerous than Scott, if I think about it..."

"Yeah, because he must be fraught with all sorts of life-threatening situations." Danny quipped. Stiles had forgotten that Danny was in the dark about the existence of werewolves.

"Let's just say yes, he is a little dangerous."

"Okay, saying he has some sort of," Danny air quoted the next word," _dangerous _lifestyle, it sounds like he's just trying to be protective of you. In which point, you have to ask yourself something simple."

"What?"

"Can you handle it?" Danny looked at him, genuinely asking Stiles if he was able to deal with having a dangerous boyfriend.

"I already do," Stiles said automatically. He already dealt with Scott's being a werewolf.

Danny looked at him, puzzlement written all over his face.

Stiles got up, packing everything into his bag. "Thank you so much, Danny, but I gotta go."

"Wait, Stiles-"

Stiles hugged a confused Danny thankfully and started to rush out the library.

"Stiles, could you at least tell me who this guy is? I think I sorta have a right to know!"

Stiles looked at Danny, debating whether or not to.

He shrugs.

"Derek Hale."

Stiles leaves a shocked Danny in the library.

_}}}Flash Forward}}}_

And that was how Stiles came to be walking in the woods, purposeful strides taking him closer to the Hale house. The woods were gloomy, and he was positive it was going to rain, and he didn't have an umbrella. Didn't change the facts. He was gonna let Derek have it.

His feet crushed leaves loudly. Intent on getting the werewolf's attention.

Eventually, he knew he felt somebody watching him.

…

Derek had tried to keep his distance over the past weeks.

Thing was, he really fucking couldn't. His feelings got the best of him.

Derek had trashed his room when he got back the night he kissed Stiles.

He was so fucking stupid. He kissed Stiles and then left.

Killing Stiles would've hurt them both a whole lot less. And easier to clean up. He'd kill Stiles, and he'd let Scott and/or the sheriff kill him. Then he wouldn't have to deal with anything else. Worked in theory, almost impossible in execution. He'd cut his own arm off before he'd even touch Stiles.

But Derek couldn't help himself.

Twice he found himself watching Stiles getting out of his dad's car before heading into school. Eight times outside Stiles' window, watching him sleep. And once when he had _almost_ knocked on the Stilinski household door. He wanted to just let it out, tell Stiles he would do anything to protect him, to love him, and to make him feel like the most loved boy in the world.

It was stupid, mostly. And totally out of character. But Stiles did that too him. He made him want to be better. To be there for him. To make Stiles' his entire world.

But he knew he couldn't, so he had taken to watching Stiles from a far, far enough so he could never be noticed, but close to be there in case Stiles needed him.

And now he needed to know why the fuck was Stiles walking through the woods alone. Again.

…

"I know you're there! You might as well just come out to talk," Stiles yelled. He hoped that he was talking to Derek, and not the alpha. He couldn't exactly be sure.

Thunder rumbled and Stiles jumped a bit.

"You shouldn't be out here alone." Derek said from behind him, hands in his jacket pockets. Probably had been for most of the time. "Especially after last time."

"Well, I'm not here alone. You're here too. You've probably been behind me since I first got here."

Derek doesn't answer. He doesn't need to.

"Look, I wanna talk about what happened."

"There's nothing else that needs to be said. You're gonna go home, right now, and live a long life. You're gonna date someone, marry them or civil union or whatever the fuck you want, and have or don't have kids and live in a big house with pets. It doesn't matter, because at least you'll live. But you will _not_ have anything to do with me or, if you're smart, Scott. And you'll have absolutely nothing to do with werewolves."

"Two points. A.) Don't fucking tell me what to do! B.) Do you honestly think I'm gonna just let go of this whole werewolf business?"

"Stiles, you don't want to-"

"Don't tell me what I want! You obviously have no fucking idea!" Stiles screamed. He blinked hard when he felt a cold raindrop fell in his eyelash. The rain starts to drizzle on them both, but neither of them take notice.

"I can't protect you!" Derek's words are a roar; anger at Stiles, anger at himself, anger at everything building up to this point. He points in the direction of the attack, "I wasn't there to keep you safe. And_ I _was the cause!" He pointed at himself.

"Yeah and I'm the cause of all this!" Stiles threw his hands out about him.

Derek looked at him. The thunder really started to rumble now, and the drizzle turned into full on showers.

"I'm the one who got Scott to come with me the night he was bitten! He wanted to stay home... I'm the one who coerced him into... Scott's only a werewolf because of _my mistake_." Thunder roared more.

"Stiles, this isn't-" Derek started.

"You're the only one who can take blame for anything here?" Stiles snapped.

"Stiles. Nothing we feel would make it worth it. Against the alpha... the Argents... I wouldn't be able to-"

"You're so stupid!" Thunder crashed. "I don't _want_ protection! All I want..."

Derek shook his head. He doesn't want to hear Stiles saying those words. He can't keep someone who loves him safe. Fate always finds a way to rip them away from him. And he can't bring himself to bet on losing Stiles. Not when the odds were so intently against him.

"All I want is for you to... to love me." Stiles pants out.

Derek's wants refused to be denied. In seconds, he has Stiles' lips in his own, savoring the taste that he loved about the teen. Stiles wrapped around Derek's soaked head, pulling himself closer to Derek's embrace. Derek pulled away, but this time he grabs Derek's jacket to keep him from going.

"If you love me, than that's all that matters."

"I do, but-"

"Then that's all that matters... Love is all we'll need." Stiles laughs a little at his allusion.

Derek looked into Stiles' eyes. They were so sure. Looking into those eyes, he felt that maybe it would be all they would need.

Maybe, just maybe, things would turn out okay. Derek kissed Stiles again, this time, passion winning out over affection.

…

Derek threw Stiles on the bed roughly. Stiles smiled and bit his lip as Derek peeled his shirt and jacket off. The older man tossed the clothing to the side and crawled up to his young lover's face. Stiles caught the lycan's lips between his own, craving the taste of Derek.

Derek smiled against Stiles throat as he breathed in. Inhaling Stiles' scent wasn't just inhaling for him, it was like sparking a fire in him using his olfactory senses. Every breath left him wanting more, and he'd demand it.

Derek's hand undid the zipper on Stiles' hoodie. He slipped it off of the teen and threw it off to the side. He peeled Stiles' t-shirt off and it joined the jacket. His eyes drank in the sight of the teen in the moonlight. He kissed Stiles a bit more. Then he started to mark a trail, using light, sensual nips of the lips to trail down.

He paused at Stiles' left nipple. He took it in his mouth and lapped at him for a few moments. He then took the darker flesh and bit it, lightly.

Stiles whimpered aloud. Derek got harder hearing the sounds he had so badly wanted to before.

Derek continued to kiss down Stiles stomach, and pays special attention on Stiles abdomen.

Stiles' eyes were closed as he arched his stomach up to Derek. Derek stops and takes off Stiles' socks and shoes as well as his own.

Then he undid the button on Stiles' jeans. He looked up at Stiles and grinned.

"Third time's a charm."

Derek pulled off the jeans and revealed some very familiar looking boxer-briefs.

"Did you plan this?" He said eyeing the undergarment.

"I may have had an inkling where this might've ended up," Stiles said, grinning like a drunk, "Besides, I seem to remember you not being able to keep your eyes off of them last time you saw them."

Derek knelt between Stiles legs, draping them over his shoulders. Thinking, he turned to Stile's inner right thigh, and put his lips there, sucking in, popping blood vessels with the force of his sucking.

Stiles gasped in surprise, feeling the sensation was new to him.

Derek looked and examined his work. Content with the forming hickey, he paid attention to Stiles obvious want.

He grasped the hem of the black boxer-briefs and tugged slowly until the tip was visible. Seeing Little Stiles' head, Derek kissed it. He took the tip into his mouth and sucked.

Stiles groaned in carnal pleasure.

Derek kept Stiles' tip in his mouth while pulling off his underwear. Each tiny revealing of Stiles' cock found itself enveloped in Derek's mouth. When the entirety of Stiles' boyhood was uncovered, Derek pulled off and removed Stiles' underwear completely.

As Derek moved to return to servicing Stiles, the teen stopped him. He bit his lip shyly.

"I... I don't want to be the only one enjoying this."

Derek crawled up and made to give his lover a kiss.

But Stiles was more interested in putting his lips on other things; he hooked his ankles around Derek's denim-ed calves and rolled the couple over, reversing their positions. He kissed Derek, noticing the way he tasted on the other man's tongue.

Stiles descended down Derek's body and came up to Derek's fly. Stiles took the button into his mouth and, using both teeth and tongue, maneuvered button out of the catch.

Derek looked at Stiles: he'd never seen anyone undo the button with their mouth before. Stiles undid the fly with his teeth, completing the move. Stiles tugged off his beau's jeans, letting Derek's erection spring out.

Typical aloof male, going commando.

Grabbing Derek's cock, Stiles held it up to his mouth. His tongue wiggled along the tip, taunting the werewolf. Derek inhaled sharply, and growled.

"You tease. I seem to recall you claiming-" Derek gasped mid-statement. He breathed hard trying to focus, the warm, tight, and moist heat around his member made him see stars. He could barely breathe, it was so tight.

Stiles had gone from head to base without hesitation. He sucked expertly, forcing the soul in his grasp to arch up deeper into his throat. Stiles shook his head, burying his nose into Derek's pelvic region.

"Oh _fuck_!" Derek shouted. Stiles bobbed his head up and down, saliva coating Derek's rod. He grabbed Derek's base and expertly went at the piece. He went at it like an expert, alternating between strokes and speeds, and he kept it clean, he didn't slobber, but he didn't let Derek dry out.

In one hand, he held Little Derek, but with the other he raked and rubbed down Derek's washboard abs, eliciting pants from the man. He used his fingers and dragged his nails across each abdominal.

"Stiles... stop... I'm too close..."

Stiles ignored him.

"Stiles. You need to stop..." Derek begged, pleaded.

Stiles looked up at Derek, he wants to push buttons.

"Stiles, stop!" Derek's hand flew to the back of Stiles' head. He was literally nanoseconds from orgasm. He hoped Stiles didn't feel the need to push it.

Stiles grinned against him, but pulled off. He kissed Derek's hip bone seductively and laid beside Derek.

"I was just about to get to the good part!" Stiles whined.

"I wasn't gonna make it past whatever part you'd call that!" Derek said. He wish he had the tolerance to see what got better than what just happened.

"You're too sensitive."

"Something that I didn't think was a weakness until just now." Derek's breaths are heaving. He wants to make things enjoyable for both of them. Mutual pleasure. "If you want something to suck, put these in your mouth." He holds out two fingers.

"Oh, um... I've never done _that_ before." Stiles looks at him shyly.

"But you did _that_ with your mouth before?" Derek accused, jealous of the thought of Stiles with another man.

"No! That was just practiced. You've seen me; I play with my food. I practiced on hotdogs... corndogs... Scott." Derek growled angrily. "I'm just kidding!"

"You know what, just put these in your mouth. Everytime you talk, I wanna maul you."

Stiles rolled his eyes and opened his mouth.

Derek had to stop himself from fainting when Stiles resumed his ministrations on the fingers with his tongue.

When he felt there was enough lubrication, Derek withdrew the moistened fingers from a whimpering Stiles.

"On your knees."

Stiles very anxiously bent forward, presenting himself to Derek.

Derek placed one of the moistened digits at Stiles' entrance.

"You need to relax for this."  
>"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill. I've watched porn before. And read it. You know, it is <em>amazing<em> how descriptive people get." Stiles rambled a lot when he's nervous.

Derek ignored him and shoved a finger in.

Stiles gasped at the feeling. He didn't expect it to feel... feel so right.

"Oh god."

Derek started to add the other finger. He could feel how much Stiles was enjoying this, and it turned him on immensely.

He scissored and plunged into Stiles with his fingers, listening to Stiles pants of pleasure. Stiles was made for this. And Derek hadn't even gotten to _his_ good part yet.

Derek curled his fingers and rubbed against a spot Stiles didn't even know he had. The resulting shockwave sent him arching back, and shaking with pleasure.

Derek pulled his fingers out; it was time for _both_ of them to enjoy the moment. Holding Stiles by the waist, he dragged his nose along his boyfriend's spine, sending a shiver up the teen's back while each inhale made Derek's blood boil.

He pushed himself into the crevice and rubbed between those two perfect ass cheeks that he would cherish for the rest of his life.

Derek held Stiles against him and put his forehead to Stiles' shoulder.

"I love you." It's the first time he's ever said them to Stiles, but he knows it won't be the last.

"I love you too." Stiles replied, anxious.

Derek plunged in, slowly, keeping the entrance as consistent as possible.

Stiles is bent over, breathing hard. He wants this, but he wasn't aware it'd be like _this_. He relaxed himself, trying to let himself adjust. He doesn't need to let Derek know he's ready, the werewolf knows it.

Derek started to move, slowly. It tortured him, having to go at this pace, but he knew Stiles needed to get used to it. He loved the feel of Stiles around him, the walls of his body caging Derek's animal side. Stiles back was so warm against his chest.

Soon, Stiles got bolder, moving away each time Derek pulled out and slamming back to meet the oncoming wave of pleasure. Each thrust sent shockwaves throughout each other's bodies.

Derek took it as permission to speed up, much to Stiles' liking.

Derek's pace sped up, until he was jackhammering himself into Stiles, Stiles being fucked deeper into the bed.

Every few bursts, Derek would thrust the deepest he could, enhancing both his and Stiles' pleasure. Stiles wasn't passive throughout the experience though; everytime Derek plunged himself to the hilt, Stiles clenched himself around his member, tightening his grip on his lover.

They go on for what feels like hours, Derek thrusting so hard he feels himself sweating with exhaustion. He alternated between bursts of hammering himself in and long, drawn-out, almost romantic, thrusting.

"_Fuck_! Fuck-fuck- fuckitty-fuck fuck! _F-f-Fuck me harder_!" Stiles screamed beneath Derek. His fist choked his own erection, but it's not his hand that had made it harder than rock, it's the unbelievable forces that are ripping through him. He moaned, groaned, panted and whimpered all while Derek sent countless waves of pleasure throughout his body. He wanted so bad for this to continue forever, for Derek to never leave him feeling empty again, but at the same he wants this end. If the onslaught didn't stop soon, he'd die of a heart attack.

Derek felt like he was on fire; compared to this, all other experiences of sex were child's play. He never knew that he could feel _sooo_ good during a fuck. How could one person make him feel so fucking ecstatic.

Derek felt Stiles on his brink and reached around, swatting away the younger teen's hand. He gripped Stiles' erection and, in a few tugs, pulled him past his limit.

"Oh my _gooooood,_" Stiles screamed as he came, the feeling of his first real orgasm making him clench up in extreme pleasure. He came so hard that they felt like gunshots from his groin.

As Stiles came beneath him, Derek felt those walls of Stiles shut around him. His mouth opened as inexplicable pleasure gripped him. He cried out as his own orgasm clawed itself through his body. He felt himself spill the most he had ever felt into Stiles.

They fell forward onto the bed, Derek too worn out to even pull out of Stiles, let alone get off of him.

Stiles panted hard. "That was... was amazing. Is it always like that?"

Derek panted harder. "Not even. I don't think it's ever been half that amazing."

"What does... that mean?"

"Means... that you... are _amazing_."

Stiles smiled at that. There was one thing he didn't have to wonder about.

…

Derek woke up and found himself naked.

He looked over and saw Stiles hogging the damn blanket.

Taking the hem of the covering, Derek tugged just a little so he could wrap himself.

Moments later, a subconscious Stiles tugged the blanket back, reacting to the cold air in the space between them.

Derek tried again.

Stiles took it back again.

Annoyed, Derek reached over, wrapped his arm around Stiles and dragged him across the bed towards him.

Stiles, feeling the coldness of the sheet beneath him, woke up for a moment. He saw an annoyed Derek and found it in his interest to just snuggle up against his boyfriend's warm body.

Derek shook his head, but proceeded to drape his arm around Stiles, hugging his boyfriend against himself, warming Stiles.

Derek fell asleep to the sound of Stiles' soft breathing and heartbeat.

**FINISHED.**

**AAN: I'm horny. Seriously, like that was ridiculous for me. I hope you could picture it out in your head as well as I had. I enjoyed that way too much.**

**Well, this story will be listed as complete. For now. Sometime in the future I may feel like coming back to this point, or starting a sequel. Pros with starting here would be: This won't move to like Page 49 out of 59. Cons would be, I'd be beating a near-dead horse. I did happen to leave out the hunters, but that was because too much thinking comes with planning tactics, evil schemes, and writing about overwhelming urges to kill...**

**ANYWHO: I will do some one-shots. Mostly fluff, I'd think... the occasional PWP. And one that I may come to put out for you guys to judge whether it should be left as a one-shot or should become it's own full version. **

**Let's do shout-outs?**

**Agent00-2: I love your reviews, I had to say it. They're ridiculously odd. In a good way odd.**

**LuvinChelleCity – I love your Snapshots, I just have to single that out. I can't wait to read the next one! They're fucking adorable. Like, there's adorable over there, and your Snapshots is pretty much hardcore banging him/her/it.**

**DolceLockhart – I'm deff gonna be doing your ficathon, so keep an eye out for my entries.**

**And to Edjen, DarkPulse, DragonRyder, Valex Charme, TheSilentMaid, SuperMerlinLlama, Juls16, EverythingSlytherin, Aisty, HeartlessBitch, Obfuscator's Canard and the ones who always came and reviewed (Sorry if your name isn't here, it's hard remembering these off the top of your head.) ... It's always blast knowing who it is who keeps coming back! Thank you so much for taking the time for letting me know you were here, I honestly love you guys for that. I hope to see you around my other stories, and I'll be sure to review yours now that I'm not worrying about trying to meet my own personal deadlines.**

**Seriously, I did a minimum of 2.5k words a day for the past week. I skipped yesterday, but made up with this double length. And you guys gave me 115 reviews so far. I'm seriously effing proud and happy. I've never actually finished any stories - dirty little secret.**

**Oh, I just noticed that I haven't done this yet. **

**I DON'T OWN TEEN WOLF. Anyone who at any point believed I did, I'm touched but, really? If I owned it, would this exist? No. You'd be watching it. On TV. Seriously. There wouldn't be an episode without some Sterek in it for you guys.**

**Okay, so... I'm gonna go and uh... shower. That last scene... Well, I'll just be honest. I watched 'demonstrative videos' and listened to Breathe On Me (Thin White Duke Mix) by Britney Spears to get that last scene working. It's a form of method writing or inducive behavior, I guess. Various things help me getting to feel certain ways. It's how I channeled poignancy in most of the scenes. But now... I need alone time. Sorry if that's TMI for you, but hey, I just described some very intimate alone time between two very straight actors, so you can deal, right?**

**I'll post something tomorrow hopefully! Sterek, of course. Or maybe not. We'll see.**


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